Sleepwalking my way through life: Hands Down 2

Hands Down 2

Today has been a very good day. Almost.

It began with waking up at the ungodly hour of eight am. I know that eight am isn’t usually an ungodly hour, but when you consider that today is a Saturday then you see my meaning. I stumbled out of the house bleary eyed and bedraggled as I headed to the station to catch a train into Glasgow.

Why was I doing this? Why was I sacrificing much needed sleep in order to get into the city at such an early time? Well dear readers, I was having my haircut. That’s right, I have grown (Ha!) bored of my wonderfully long locks. Yes, I did look good with long hair; yes, I was unbelievably sexy; and yes, I did enjoy shaking the hair out of my eyes, but it was becoming too unmanageable. It would take up to an hour to straighten my freshly washed hair, and even then it would still resemble… Well, think of the Dulux Dog using conditioner then taking a spin in a tumble dryer.

So I decided to cut it off. Not all of it mind you, just enough to make me look different.

“Back so soon?” My hairdresser asked as soon as I walked through the front door.

“You just can’t keep me away.” I replied taking off my jacket and bag. She led me into the other room and sat me down.

“So you’re in for a little trim?”

“A big trim more like it. I’d like at least an inch and a half off. All round.” I finished, a definite twinkle in my eye. I had been planning this for a while, ever since I found myself taking a longing look at old photos.

Off to work she went. Washing, snipping, drying, straightening, snipping, styling, snipping. Halfway through the procedure I resembled a member of the Beatles, but it was soon fixed up and I walked out of that building with a smile on my face. My hair is shorter. Not as short as it once was, but short enough. To be honest, when I first looked in the reflection of a window, I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

But I think it’s growing on me (HA!).

After an hour of wandering around Glasgow I met up with Marie. She apologised for being slightly late, and after the customary hug she looked at me with her head cocked to one side.

“Did you get a haircut or something?”

We both laughed and she gave me my Easter present. She gave me a small Crème Egg Easter egg while her mum gave me a larger Cadbury’s Caramel egg. She also gave me a card and a visor in the shape of a purple elephant (to mimic the heffelumps that we oh-so love), all contained in a large bag with a cute Easter Bunny on it.

We walked up to the cinema and watched Ice Age 2 at the cinema-formally-known-as-the-UGC. Marie had seen it before and it turned out to be a half decent film. Though to be honest, I preferred the company much more than the film.

After the film we were going to head to TGI Fridays for an early dinner before Marie went to see her brother. We walked down the busy Buchannan Street and through the throng of people towards the restaurant when we spotted Maddy, Gary, Mark and Laurence.

Well, more accurately, they spotted us.

“JOE!?” Gary shouted, peering at me through his glasses in disbelief. I hadn’t seen Gary for ages, and he seemed different than normal. Probably just my imagination though.

“Why did you cut your hair?” Maddy asked, poking at it with her finger.

“I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while, so I though ‘why not?’”

“It looks nicer this way.”

Thumbs up all round I suppose. Marie commented on how I look “younger” with it. But she likes it anyway.

Two hours later and we had finished our lunch/dinner, Marie had polished off her barbeque ribs and I had wholly devoured my fajitas. We headed to the train station so I could go home and Marie could go see her brother. However, her brother lives in Giffnock, and Giffnock happens to be a stop along my train ride.

“Wow, your hands are cold.” I said, reaching over the table and grabbing Marie’s hand.

“Hmm?” She had been looking out the window in thought, watching the world pass by in a blur.

“Your hands, they’re freezing.” I told her.

“No they’re not, you’re just looking for an excuse to hold my hand.”

Ah, she knows me too well.

A few stops later and she was away, leaving me alone in my seat to contemplate my day and to ignore the girl across the aisle who was making it painfully obvious that she was checking me out.

I buried myself in the play I need to read for English, until I arrived at my stop. I pulled on my coat, slung my bag over my shoulder and began walking home. I was almost home when I realised that I didn’t have my Easter bag with me. I had left it on the fucking train, under the fucking seat where I had put it for safe keeping.

After many head slappings I slumped home, a writhing feeling in my gut at my own stupidity. How the fuck could I leave it on the fucking train? I even called up the station to see if someone handed in the bag, a small not of hope in my voice.

"Sorry, but if it's not of high value then it's not likely that it'll be handed in. It's more likely that someone has eaten it."

I hung up the phone, distraught.

I wasn't upset at the fact that I lost a bag with chocolate in it, it was the fact that I lost a bag that was such a nice gesture. It was so nice of Marie to give me an egg, and even nicer of her mum to gave me one too. It was such an amazing gesture and I went and fucked it up.

It's the only black mark on an otherwise fantastic day.

Happy Easter folks.
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